Stowe notes, letters and verses . Itwould seem as if one might hardly be so daring as tomake the attempt again. There is a great finality aboutthe number three—see Father William: Ive answeredthree questions, and that is enough. And the Bell Man:What I say three times is true. LETTERS 315 You know, no one was ever permitted more thanthree wishes, and three attempts have ever been the do not see my way to apply for the prize again. How-ever, I am glad the picture is well hung. TO HIS BROTHER HENRY Washington, Conn., July 13, 1896. What a summer of beauty this must be at the fairestof al
Stowe notes, letters and verses . Itwould seem as if one might hardly be so daring as tomake the attempt again. There is a great finality aboutthe number three—see Father William: Ive answeredthree questions, and that is enough. And the Bell Man:What I say three times is true. LETTERS 315 You know, no one was ever permitted more thanthree wishes, and three attempts have ever been the do not see my way to apply for the prize again. How-ever, I am glad the picture is well hung. TO HIS BROTHER HENRY Washington, Conn., July 13, 1896. What a summer of beauty this must be at the fairestof all places! The lindens are in flower now, or shouldbe, but perhaps this rich warm rainy season has pushedthe development of all vegetation somewhat ahead oftime. I am sure you have not had a sultry day, however allthe rest of the world may suffer from heat and humidity. Oh for Stowe! Oh for the North! Send me wordof it—every detail! TO his SISTER Washington, Conn., September, a gift life was, not a right! VERSES ^.^2. VERSES WINTERS ANSWER TO MISGIVINGS Often the heart that eager isTo build its hope on dazzHng heightFalls in the shadow of its bliss,And, comfortless, sees endless sullen whisper stirs anon:Acknowledge life a worthless boon;What gain to cloak and smother care-To smile at grief ? Accept your struggle still against despair ?How long resist the creeping gloom ? As long as crowns that hilltop bareThe pine against the azure sky,And gives its music to the waves its tasselled boughs on high;As long as shall the chickadeeFlit, lisping sweet, from tree to tree;As long as on this slopes displayedThe sumachs dauntless red cockade. 319 320 STOWENOTES TO See! cried that voice of love That never claimed my ear with aught but kind intent, See, in the west, those tiny clouds above The crescent moon, where rose and azure blent Hang on the setting sun! Alas that I, Vexed with the ills of life, whose sombre side Oerdarkened petty pleasures, stub
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